Driving Lessons
by Jason Elric
Summary: General Roy Mustang agrees to teach Edward Elric how to drive. Never in his worst dreams did he imagine it could be this disastrous. One-shot. No yaoi. Enjoy. Rated T for Ed's usual bad mouth.


Disclaimer: Look, I think we all know that none of us own FMA. We all know it belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. Do I really need to waste precious time telling you this?

And now, the Feature Presentation

Roy clung for dear life to the bar just above the door handle, praying to whatever god that had gotten him here that Ed didn't crash into something or run someone over.

"Y-you know, Ed, the _brake_ pedal is there for a reason. You're supposed to _use_ it!" Ed was hunched over the steering wheel, looking like he was driving a race car.

"Shut up, Bastard Colonel. I know what I'm doing."

_Uh... No, Edward, you don't. That's why we're going to crash!_

"Ed, you almost ran over that woman! Don't run over the curb! Watch out for that…," CRASH! Roy was almost tossed through the windshield. Ed sat for what seemed like forever, his face white and hands in a death grip on the wheel. Then, he took a shaky breath and said, "We… Crashed," in a hoarse voice.

_No, duh, Edward. For a kid genius, you have an annoying habit of stating the obvious._

However, Roy refrained from voicing his thoughts and nodded once instead before getting out to assess the damage. What he saw made him groan. Ed got out after a minute, looked, and swore.

The entire front of the car had folded on impact like an accordion and a steady stream of steam escaped from the radiator.

"Damn," Roy breathed, running a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to do next.

_I never should have agreed to teach him how to drive. That's about as smart as sending a rabbit into a snake pit. Maybe Havoc should have taught him._

"So, Bastard Colonel, what do we do, now?"

"_We_ don't do anything. _You_ are going to stay here and make sure the car doesn't explode. _I_ am going to walk back to that drugstore just down the street and call Lieutenant Hawkeye." Ed opened his mouth to argue, but Roy shot him a look that clearly said, "I am in charge here. For once, just listen to me." Ed closed his mouth and nodded.

"So, what should I do if the car does explode?"

"Don't die. If looks like it's about to explode, you run. Run as fast and far as you can, and get behind cover. If you don't, you'll end up getting hit with shrapnel or something and end up in the hospital. Considering you just got _out_ of the hospital, that wouldn't be good." Ed raised his hand in a mock salute.

"Got it, Sir. I won't die." Roy rolled his eyes and started jogging down the street.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Do you have a phone I could borrow for a minute?" The woman working the drugstore pointed Roy to the phone in the back. Roy dialed his own desk, giving the passcode.

"This is General Roy Mustang's office. This is Lieutenant Hawkeye speaking. May I help you?"

"Lieutenant, it's General Mustang. Edward and I had a little accident. Could you come help us?"

"You know, Sir, we all told you it was probably a bad idea to try teaching him how to drive." Roy sighed.

"Yes, Lieutenant. Just send the car to come get us, please?" Roy was in no mood to get a lecture from Hawkeye at the moment.

"Yes, Sir." Roy gave Hawkeye their location, thanked the store owner, and jogged back to Ed.

Twenty minutes later, Lieutenant Hawkeye appeared with a tow crew.

"Jeez, Sir. What did you do?"

"_I_ didn't do anything, Lieutenant. Edward here has never heard of a _break pedal_." Ed stood off to the side, glowering at Roy.

"It's not my fault. You never told me which pedal was the break." Before Roy and Ed can get into a fight over whether or not Ed was told where the break pedal was, Hawkeye stepped between them.

"It doesn't matter whether or not the proper information was given, now. What's done is done and no one's hurt. Let's get the car to a repair shop and you two to a doctor just make sure you're not hurt." They reluctantly ceased their bickering and climbed into the car for the unwanted check-up. Both were declared perfectly fit and fine. The car Ed had been driving was totaled and in disrepair.

"Edward, I think from now on you should stick to trains and walking. I don't think society could handle your marvelous driving skills."

"Shut up, Bastard General," Ed muttered.

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A/N: This is a short story (only 763 words.) I'm sorry about that, but I've been working on writing one shots. I could actually think of an entire melodramatic story for this, but we'll leave it where it is. Please tell me what you think. This is my first one shot in a long time, so be nice but honest.


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